CHAPTER 1 — THE SUNLESS DUNE
Darkness breathed.
It lay over the dunes like a living thing—thick, unmoving, swallowing the horizon until sky and sand became the same endless void. The air tasted dry, metallic, wrong. Somewhere beneath the surface, the earth trembled at long, uneven intervals, like a creature exhaling in its sleep.
Riven woke to that sound.
He didn't remember falling asleep.
He didn't remember anything at all.
Only his name—floating in his mind like a single shard of glass.
Riven.
He pushed himself upright. The sand felt cold through his palms, colder than sand should ever be. When he stood, his shadow stretched behind him—long, thin, flickering at its edges, shimmering faintly, as if it were trying to detach itself.
He blinked. The world remained black.
Not night-black—starless black. A kind of darkness that felt ancient, as though light had never existed here.
Yet he could see.
Not clearly. Not with his eyes. Shapes formed only when he moved—dunes rising like frozen waves, rocky spines splitting the sand, narrow trails carved by things he did not want to imagine. The air itself seemed to bend slightly with each step, subtle distortions following him.
He didn't know how he navigated the dark.
Only that each step landed true.
As if he had walked this dead place many times before.
A whisper slid across the dunes.
danger… step lightly…
Riven paused. His breath stilled. He wasn't frightened, but something inside him tightened—an animal sense sharpening his awareness. His eyes adjusted further than they should, picking out faint lines in the sand: cracks, depressions, places where something enormous had slithered or crawled. Tiny fissures glimmered faintly, as if responding to him.
He swept a hand across his face, expecting dust or sweat. Nothing. His skin was cold.
His clothes were practical—light, meant for travel. Boots, dark trousers, a fitted shirt, a torn half-cloak. He didn't recognize any of it.
Nor the broken chain wrapped loosely around his wrist.
He touched the metal. It pulsed warmly, almost like it had a heartbeat of its own. A faint vibration ran through the air, as if the sand itself acknowledged him.
A tremor rolled beneath him. Not distant this time. Close.
Riven crouched without thinking. The motion was smooth, precise. Too precise. His heart should have raced, but it didn't. Everything in him was quiet—focused. A subtle ripple traced the air around him, shadows bending slightly in response to his stance.
The sand ahead of him cracked open.
A shape rose.
Massive. Bone-white and shadow-black, stitched from dust and something older. Its many eyes glimmered faintly like dying coals. Its limbs bent at wrong angles, dragging trails of darkness that didn't fade.
Riven had no idea what it was.
But his body recognized the threat.
His pulse rose—not from fear, but anticipation.
The creature screeched, a jagged, metallic sound that tore through the still air. The dunes shuddered.
Riven shifted his stance. He didn't know where the movement came from. It was simply there—etched into muscle memory he didn't remember earning.
The creature lunged.
Sand exploded beneath its weight.
Riven moved first.
Not fast—instinctive. His foot slid off the line of attack, his body twisting just enough for claws to rip through his cloak instead of his chest. He didn't breathe until he finished the dodge.
Even then, the breath came steady.
The creature skidded, hissed, and pivoted.
Riven's hands tightened into fists.
He wasn't a fighter. He didn't remember being one.
So why did this feel familiar?
The creature charged again—sand churning, shadows stretching behind it like wings.
Riven stepped forward.
His fist met the air—
—and the darkness around him shivered.
A second silhouette overlapped with his own. Not quite a shadow, not quite a reflection. It mimicked him, slightly delayed, slightly distorted, as if the world struggled to decide what he was. A faint shimmer traced the air between them, almost like the void itself was hesitating.
When he struck, the silhouette struck with him.
Their combined blow hit the creature's skull.
The impact cracked bone and sent the beast tumbling through the dunes in a spray of dust and broken shadow.
Silence returned. The dunes stilled. The air settled.
Riven stared at his hand. At the trembling outline that faded a heartbeat later.
"…What am I?" he whispered.
The darkness did not answer.
But somewhere far below, deep beneath the sand and stone, something stirred.
A slow, ancient pulse.
A presence that had felt his awakening.
And feared it.
Riven exhaled and began walking again.
One step forward.
Into a world he did not know.
Toward a fate he could not yet grasp.
But he would.
One truth at a time.